Looking Up
by Silent Amethyst
Summary: Edward doesn't like his little brother doing everything he does. Pre-series.


**Looking Up**

By. Silent Amethyst

"Grr..stop cop'ing me!"

Wide yellow eyes blinked at him innocently, not understanding.

Fed up in the only way a two year old (almost three! he constantly reminded every non and listening ear, when realistically that time was still six months away) could be, Edward sat up petulantly and crossed his arms, tossing his red crayon away as he pouted.

Blinking again, Alphonse then glanced down at the orange crayon in his hand, the slight tilt of his head making it seem as though he was trying to determine something curious about the dyed wax, before chucking it away. He watched it roll away and then turned back to Edward for approval.

That was the last thing he was going to get. Edward's cheeks puffed up angrily, his face quickly resembling his favorite color. "Stop it!" He grabbed another crayon from the pile and tried shoving it in Al's hand, but they were curled up in tight fists crossed over his chest. Alphonse shook his head, smiling at his older brother.

Ed was _not_ amused.

"Fine then!" He stood up, towering over his little brother and pointed a finger at him triumphantly. "You can't stood up!" Although, Edward failed to realize this trump card he had discovered wouldn't last for much longer. Alphonse, being not much older than one, was beginning to stand with assistance. All that mattered to Edward though was that it worked _now_.

Alphonse looked him up and down, examining his stance carefully before getting on his hands and knees and trying to push himself onto his feet with a grunt. He was barely able to take his hands from the floor before wobbling and falling hard backwards onto the floor. There were only a few seconds of stunned silence before Al started crying.

Edward looked on, panicked. No! He was going to get in trouble! "Shh! Shh! Be quiet!" But to no avail.

"What's going on?" His mother's voice drifted into the room before she appeared in the doorway of the family room, a drying towel in her hands.

"I didn' do it!" Edward wasted no time yelling out with wide pleading eyes. He pointed at Alphonse, just before Trisha came and picked him up and quieted him. "Al tried to stood up but couldn' an' he fall."

Trisha sighed, this hardly being the first time something like this had happened. She looked down pointedly at her oldest. "Is that _all _that happened, Edward?"

Guilt got him to open his mouth, but it stubbornly snapped shut before it betrayed him. He looked down at his feet, to the scribbled papers that lay there. The colors were different but it was obvious that the pictures were supposed to be the same.

"Edward." Trisha knelt down and set Al on the floor. She saw him start to crawl away to fetch the orange crayon under the table before directing her full attention to the stubborn boy in front of her.

"He won' stop cop'ing me." Edward eventually muttered, failing to meet his mother's eyes.

She took her finger under his chin and gentle brought it up so that he was looking at her. "And what did you do?"

Edward still tried to look anywhere but at her. "I stood up 'cause Al can't yet and he couldn' copy me no more."

Trisha looked at her oldest son thoughtfully. He hadn't done anything wrong, per say. "Why does that bother you so much?"

"'Cause I don' want 'im to! It makes me mad."

By this point Alphonse had crawled back, now holding a piece of paper crunched up between his fist as he reached up to tug at the hem of Ed's shirt. "Bru bru." He called out, catching both their attentions. He sat back on his legs and held up the paper, smiling toothily as he did. "Bru bru."

"See," Trisha couldn't withhold the smile from her voice as Edward dumbly looked at the paper then took it, more enraptured by Al's obvious adoration even if he didn't understand it. "He's your little brother, Ed. And you're his big brother. Al looks up to you in a way he never will me or your father."

"Big..." Edward trailed off, looking contemplative before brightening. "Really?"

"Mm hmm."

It didn't take much longer for that to settle in before Ed ruffled Al's hair and ran over to the basket of blocks sitting against the wall, bringing them over and dumping them out with a newly found enthusiasm in his eyes. He began to stack them, Alphonse eagerly playing along with Edward's encouragement. "C'mon little brother, build 'em up!"

Her presence all but forgotten, Trisha stood back up and started back to the kitchen. "Make sure you clean up the paper and colors when your done with them, Ed."

She got no response, having no doubt that her two year old either hadn't heard the reminder or hadn't been paying attention. That was no surprise; it always took saying things more than once to get things done. It was just like she suspected Edward would forget why it wasn't so bad to be a role model in at least a week's time, landing them right back where they started a few minutes ago.

With children, Trisha was long into learning that's just how it was: a never ending cycle.

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**A.N. - **It is a rare occasion when I'm able to think of an idea and then sit down and put it into words the same night. And it's on those occasions when I am the most pleased with what I've finished. It was too adorable in my head to resist, and I understand all too well how parents like to stress that the younger siblings look up to the older sibling the most (because I am one). It's annoying, personally, but that's probably because of the eight and a half year age difference between myself and my oldest younger sister. I don't want either of my sisters doing things just because I do/did them. I want them to be themselves; there going to have to learn the same lessons someday too, regardless. But that's getting aside from the point, isn't it? The point being that this idea was irresistible and that I hope you found it just as cute as I saw it to be.

Remember, grammar screw-ups were toddler talk. They were intentional.

Feel free to, you know, leave a review or something. Just saying. ;)


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